Meant for Two
by TidalDragon
Summary: How would we be if he had hit his mark?
**Meant for Two**

Summary: How would we be if he had hit his mark?

 _Written for the Sarah the Ravenclaw's Valentine's Day Challenge_

Rating: 12+  
Categories: Angst  
Warnings: No Warnings  
Major Characters: Ginny, Harry, Other Canon  
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Harry/OC

CHAPTER 1: You and Me

The bell jingling stirred me out of my heavy-lidded haze when you walked through the door that day. I'd been nearly dozing all morning watching the crowds bustling through Diagon Alley. I think it was almost eleven when you'd come in and you were my first customer. You looked as tired as I was, dark circles under your green eyes and your hair messier than it was at the end of our practices of yesteryear.

Of course, you had better reasons. You were always destined to – even if others hadn't expected it, you would've demanded it of yourself. Me? I just wanted to get away. Hogwarts had stopped feeling like home a long time ago and now I was caught in the in-between – I had no place as an adult, but I was far too old to be a child anymore. The darkness under my eyes and the dullness of my expression were an homage to sleepless nights haunted by shattering rock and screams. But I can't tear myself away – not yet. Dreamless sleep, they whisper, dishonors the dead.

I watch as you putter around the pads and gauntlets. You seem old too. But how could you not be? I had my parents anyway. My blissful ignorance. You had ignorance too they say, but it was never bliss was it? The people outside weren't like us. They were flitting about hurriedly – happily – like everyone always had before. How could they laugh so loudly and move so loosely? Oh, they cast their own furtive glances around corners or when stepping out of shop doors, but it was mere nerves in their eyes.

Yours stayed fixed for the first time since you'd entered when they finally caught mine. We exchanged the normal pleasantries, awkwardly at best. I'd taken the job to avoid going back. You understood. The place would never be the same. You shuffled your feet nervously, glancing between me and the gloves in your hands. Were they good? You'd never bought equipment for yourself, let alone someone else. What should you look for? How was this size for a girl's hands? For the first time in a long time, the weights that chained the corners of my lips were gone and I answered all your questions. You listened close and followed up, puzzling here and nodding there.

I wondered why you'd come alone. Training created tension. Ron had never been good about competing against you and even though you were working toward the same goal he hated losing. You didn't want to lose the bedroom at the Burrow, but…you looked away. You'd said too much. It wasn't a big deal anyway.

I admitted I was lonely too. Wasn't that what you were really getting at? It was still an awful, cold world, especially this time of year. I didn't have friends here either. Maybe we could fix that. You looked panicked as soon as you'd said them. As if it was wrong that you should share my company. I understood. But it would be okay. We were friends from Quidditch. And I'd helped you get her the right size gloves. It would be a good story. You said it had been stupid of you – worrying like that. You hid it with a short, forced laugh, but I could tell you were scared. You weren't there. Other people were. And after the year before… I touched your hand. I know after all how those things go – losing all the progress I'd made in opening up Lee when school didn't keep us together anymore.

You offered a glove awkwardly. Would I try it on? I laughed loudly. Finally. Like the people outside, I finally laughed. You looked a bit put out, but I explained. Her hands and mine are nothing alike. Chasers know these things about each other, especially when they've done each other's nails before. You shrugged. You were hoping to do better than guess, but you'd asked Hermione to find out too late. The fear was back. If you didn't get it owled soon… I took the gloves and rung you out.

When I slid the change and you reached for the product, our hands met again. Yours were rough on mine and even though it was the slightest touch on your part I could feel a bit of what training had done for you. I looked up with a nervous smile and there you were. For a moment, you _weren't_ lonely anymore. But your conscious mind woke quickly and you pulled back, all apologies. It's nothing. But really, about that butterbeer? Well definitely not _tonight_. Training was going to be busy the next couple of weeks? I nodded, biting my lip. Sure. Some other time then.

You left the store in a rush and it felt colder after you'd gone. I thought back to your visit throughout the day. We didn't deserve loneliness. Eventually, the clock hit six and I got to put on my mittens and lock up. As I pulled the knitted wool over my hands, I noticed that something felt different all of a sudden. Like something on the hand you'd touched had been rubbed away. It was stupid. I was stupid. But I looked across the alley to the decorations hanging. Hearts everywhere. That stupid little angel with his stupid little bow. It was dark, but was his arrow aimed at me?

Some other time never came. I couldn't blame you, especially when I saw you next. It was summer and she was home. You strode into the store holding hands. I didn't need to check your eyes that day. Happy. Happy, happy, happy. It radiated off of you. She was ebullient, thanking me profusely for the advice on the gloves, trying to commiserate about the sizing issue and wizards being dolts. I smiled gamely while inside I burned. I nodded. Of course. Come back anytime. It was _painful_ pretending to be that happy. I tried to blame her, but that wasn't fair. Everybody remembered _that_ Valentine's Day. She'd waited so long for you. How long had it taken? I could be patient too. Things always happen for a reason.

She and I became closer friends after that. I got to see you from time to time because of it. You leaned on me when Hermione was unreachable. Two weeks before her birthday: what's she been talking about? Christmas Eve: anything else? It could even be a trinket. You wanted to spoil her now that you'd passed training.

Two years since our run-in with the gloves, you came back. This time, you stayed outside, waiting with your hands stuffed into your pockets. She barreled in like a force of nature. Decked out in green and gold, there was so much confidence in her walk and she blazed more brilliantly than usual, a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face. When she stuck it in my face, it might as well have been a dagger to my heart. She was getting married! To who?! You, _of course_. I needed to get out more. You'd asked her last night in some kind of way that was just perfect and romantic – I was too dizzy to remember what – and…would I be a bridesmaid?

Should I – c _ould_ I – stand there wherever your wedding ended up? You'd be roguishly handsome, the way you'd developed to be after all that training and a few extra years. You'd be captivating – I could stare all day. But there'd be Ginny, the brilliant, blushing bride all in white turning my hopes irrevocably black. I agreed. Declining her offer would be too uncomfortable and she needed a third after Hermione and Luna. She wasn't about to have Gabrielle forced on her like George had.

So here we are. She's almost here too. You're waiting cliffside. I'm about to be walked in on Neville's arm. They give us the signal and I'm moving toward you in the deep red of our house colors. I'm finally walking down the aisle and you're at the end of it. Just like in the dreams that took over my mind years ago, replacing curses and killing and screams with caresses and kisses and seductive situations. Except I'm second best. Or third, after Hermione as well. Tears prick at the edge of my eyes, but I fight them back. Truthfully, I'm not even that much because for you, there are no other places. There's simply her – and then everyone else. As she enters the room to much fanfare, I plaster on a smile like I have so many times before.

At the head table, I'm all alone. I've never been the life of the party and tonight is no exception. Nobody's noticed the brown-haired girl, sitting silently in the fancy dress with her dull face resting in her hands and her eyes gone dim. Nobody ever does. Before tonight I didn't care. It was just another opportunity to escape from the world we lived in and float away into a future that belonged to you and me. I'd work as hard as you did, getting out of that simple shop and into the international part of the business. You'd keep the world safe. You'd miss me when I was gone on business, and I'd count the hours until your missions ended waiting for you to come back to me. We'd take vacation up North where I'm from, riding our old broomsticks playing one-on-one for hours until we were too tired to do any of the hiking we'd planned. I'd pitch the tent and you'd build the fire and we'd rest under a blanket right nearby, staring at the stars and sharing our wildest dreams. I'd always be there for you and you'd always be there for me. We'd look into each other's eyes and see love – not lonely.

Before tonight, when I gazed above I saw the light sparkling in the sky, filled with possibility. Now it's easier to see the emptiness behind the illusion of light. It is the darkness of a broken dream for two because for me, there will never be a you.

 **A/N: Well, it's probably for the best that people will read this after the holiday as it's a sad take on an unrequited love that was born on Valentine's Day and then progressively put asunder. As always, I'd love your feedback on the style of the piece and the POV it was written from. Were you able to figure out who it was? What do you think of the idea of that potential pairing? Did I give it enough in their interaction to truly spark something from that character's perspective or did it need something more? How were the characterizations of Harry and Ginny?**

 **A big thank you to Sarah the Ravenclaw for hosting this challenge and getting this out of me!**


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